Everything He Is
by Shenandoah76209
Summary: Everything he is...is the most important man in the world. But in five and a half years he hasn't found her. She hasn't found him and its like a hole in her chest. Rachel is trying to hide how much she's hurting but Kurt isn't deaf or blind. Same 'verse as Magic Puck. Companion piece to All She Is


Everything He Is

Rachel woke up to a damp pillow, biting back a scream. After three and a half years of college and sharing an apartment with Kurt for the last two she'd learned, even in her sleep, that screaming never came to anything good. The several boyfriends she'd had never understood why she wouldn't spend the night, why she wouldn't sleep in the same bed with them. How could she explain it?

The more salient point, she mused to herself as she brushed her teeth, was that she didn't want to explain. For all that she'd loved some of those boys, let them touch her, shared her body in a way she hadn't since Finn, she could only let them in so far. There was part of her that she didn't show anyone. Part of her that was only for one other person in the world… if only he was interested, but he wasn't. Rachel frowned at her reflection. "No point in thinking about it," She reminded herself. "Just go work on your assignment."

A stint on the treadmill, yoga and then breakfast, veganism had succumbed to vegetarianism once she'd reached Julliard. A college budget didn't stretch to almond milk and the campus meal plans didn't have vegan options, but she could always find fish and vegetables anywhere. She'd learned since coming to New York that compromise in some things was inevitable.

Kurt was still asleep so she plugged her headphones into the Casio keyboard and began to practice the music for her assignment. It hadn't been written for piano, originally performed with guitars and drums, an eighties rock ballad, but the assignment was to take something old and change it, make it their own.

* * *

An hour later saw her getting dressed in clothing Kurt deemed appropriate for class and cleaning up the kitchen while her roommate primped, "How is it that I'm the girl, with long hair, and makeup to put on but I can be ready in half the time you can?" She tilted her head as Kurt came in the room, "Seriously. How is it possible?"

"Looking this fabulous takes a certain amount of time," Kurt told her as he swept into the room. "Though I do love those boots with those jeans Diva, nicely paired."

"Thank you," Rachel grinned happily. She might not always agree with the clothes Kurt said were suitable but she had to admit she always looked good. Lately she'd been trying to break out of the little girl box her dads had been keeping her in. Thriftshops were becoming her new favorite place to find clothes, they were cheap, original and with Kurt's help usually they were wearable with only a little work. "Do you have your assignment ready?"

"Hmm...finished last night," He rolled his eyes as he wrapped a scarf around his throat. "Since we're going reverse alphabetically you'll be dead last, just the way you like it. Are you ready?"

"Yes," Rachel nodded and half smiled as she pulled on her coat. "If we get there early we can get the seats in back. Grand entrances must be seized."

"Oh I hear that," Kurt laughed and shook his head as Rachel dove for her phone when it rang.

"Oh hi," Rachel knew her voice wasn't the most cheerful. "No, nothing's wrong, we're just on our way out the door." She frowned as she picked up her purse, "Of course I'm-" She stopped and took a deep breath, too many of those and she'd end up hyperventilating. "No you're right. I don't want to spend the night with you. And I don't want you in my bed overnight. I think if you say things like that to me then I 'm better off with my vibrator than I am a man who can't be bothered to listen or follow simple directions." She could feel her shoulders tightening as abuse spewed out of her now ex-boyfriend's mouth, "Well if that's how you feel then this isn't much of a loss for you. Enjoy your date with obscurity."

She clicked off the phone with a scowl at the innocent electronic device and was aware of Kurt staring at her, "You had another dream didn't you." He said with a sad smile.

Rachel shook her head and began to button her coat, "It doesn't matter Kurt. I got another letter back yesterday. You know I always have bad dreams after that." She wrapped her scarf around her throat and grabbed her keys, "I'm just...high strung afterwards is all. And Bryan picked the wrong day to start bitching at me about how I'm never around when he wakes up."

"You're better off without him if the half hearted moans I heard coming out of your mouth last weekend are any indication," Kurt told her dryly. "Doug may have been an ass when you were a sophomore but the man could make you scream in a very good way."

"Hmm... too bad he was a worse diva than I was, with a penchant for leaving bruises from grabbing my arm when he was pissed off," Rachel said dryly. "I'm starting to think concentrating on my career is the right way to go. It's not as if my personal life is anything to write home about."

"Speaking of home...anything?" Kurt asked hesitantly as they walked down the street towards the campus.

"No one has heard anything," Rachel said miserably. "It's been more than three years," She shook her head. "I'm really... Kurt I'm really wondering if I should give up asking. His mom is getting annoyed... though Becca is always happy to talk to me. But she doesn't know anything either."

"Maybe we should go home for the holidays," Kurt suggested quietly. "Your dads would love to see you, we could connect with everyone in person. Maybe your Rabbi or some of the kids from your Synagogue will have some news."

Rachel shook her head, "I don't practice my faith anymore Kurt. You know that." She felt her lips curve up as they neared the campus. No matter what, the fact that she was at Julliard never failed to make her happy. "Besides, school breaks are the only time we get to ourselves, to plan the new years wardrobes, to hit the thrift shops and you know everyone always sells their stuff before the holidays so they have money to shop. And..."

"What?" Kurt tucked his arm into hers and she knew he was releasing the death grip he had on the mace in his pocket now that they were safely past the campus police perimeter.

"I just... we always talked about coming here. He knew how much New York meant to me," Rachel looked at her next to best friend, the only real friend she had in New York. "Its why I just found it so hard to believe that he took off for LA. He promised he'd find me here. He promised me Kurt. And Noah has never broken a promise to me." She shrugged, "I just feel...closest to him here. I can't... I just can't leave. It feels like..."

"Like if you leave you'll never see him again? Or that you'll never get back," Kurt asked quietly.

"Both," Rachel admitted painfully. "Kurt I... I've never felt about anyone the way I felt about him. I don't even know if he felt the same way...we neither of us said. But I... I regret every day of my life not being with him when I could, regardless of how my dads felt about him."

"I would have thought they'd like him," Kurt offered. "I mean he's Jewish, he's cute, loyal and worshipped you. He's every father's dream if you overlook the juvenile delinquincy, man whore status and unwed father issue."

"Yes, overlooking the tri-fecta of everything my dads hate about Puck, he's every father's dream," She agreed wryly as they entered the performance hall. "You never told me what you were going to perform," She reminded him with a smile.

"Nope, I didn't," Kurt grinned at her and Rachel groaned.

"You're going to make me cry again aren't you," She accused. "Damnit Kurt you know I hate that."

"You're still paying for introducing me to that delicious show and then telling me it was cancelled after I was in love with those men," Kurt scowled at her.

"I told you the series was canceled before I put in the DVD's," The tiny diva pointed out. "You refused to listen. You saw Adam Baldwin and Nathan Fillion and you went apeshit."

"Then you made me watch the movie and I just cried and cried buckets," Kurt recalled with the same accusatory note in his voice. "Thank Gaga for fan fiction or I don't know how I'd survive."

"Hmm..." Rachel sighed, "I can't get enough. Though I may just have to branch out a little... new stuff is getting thin on the ground."

"Browncoats unite," Kurt chuckled as they took off their coats and scarves and took their seats, "So any bets as to who will beg off today?"

"Velasquez for sure," Rachel predicted. "She cannot face going first and she's never ready on time anyway."

"Hmm...no bet," The male diva agreed. "And Silverstein... He's going to sprain something one of these days with all his histrionics. This is acting for singers, not over emoting, you'd think with it written on the door he'd remember."

"So chances are we'll both be performing today," Rachel sighed. "Meh. I was hoping to scope out the competition a little more."

"But if we end early then we can hit that Goodwill store. They always put the new things out in the mornings," Kurt pointed out. "And I know we've both got fifty we can spare...if we decide to eat eggs and toast for the next couple of days."

"We might be able to spring for some pepper," Rachel grinned. "Daddy sent me a couple hundred so I could get a head start on my wardrobe."

"Ooooh score," Kurt gave a happy wiggle in his seat and Rachel giggled. The rest of the class began to straggle in, complaining about the cold and wind. Then Professor Paul came in the room and everything went silent.

"Soo..." The teacher had a rich voice, a wonderful instrument in his craft, "Let's have the excuses shall we?"

Rachel and Kurt exchanged amused looks as the students they'd predicted begged to be given another day to be ready. Finally Professor Paul had enough and raised his hand for silence, "You will be performing today. All of you. And I'm going to leave this to chance. Draw the numbers from the hat, and that's when you'll perform."

Kurt grinned, "It can't be any worse than Mr. Schuester's magical matchups." He reminded her as they walked down the risers.

"Word," Rachel replied in an imitation of Artie. Grinning she looked at her number and showed Kurt who held up a number one. Rachel was number twelve, dead last, while Kurt would obviously perform first.

"Well Mr. Hummell you may as well remain here with me," The instructor held out the hat impatiently to the rest of the students, "We don't have all day people. Let's act like this is our life's work, not just a class shall we?"

Rachel chuckled as she climbed back to her seat and prepared to be wowed by Kurt's performance. Uber prepared as always she pulled out her tissues. Kurt had the awful habit of making her cry when he sang whether it was what he said to introduce the song, the song itself or the way he put heart and soul into his voice. She didn't mind tears in her eyes but when she was full out sobbing it was more than a little embarrassing.

When everyone had settled back into their seats Kurt took his place in the center of the stage and he was given the full and daunting attention of the professor and class, "So." He began quietly. "I found a song that I thought was perfect...until I woke up and heard someone screaming in the middle of the night." He looked at his audience, "She thinks I don't hear her. That she wakes herself up before she gets to that part of the dream, and mostly its true. But I was going to sing Roxette's '_It Must Have Been Love_', until I realized...that it isn't over. And for her it never will be." He shrugged, "So I picked another song by the same artist, reworked it so it has less of a rock feel, sounds more like me. But it's a reminder to her... never give up. Because in the end...it'll be worth it."

He moved to the piano and began to play a slow tune, the notes vaguely familiar to Rachel and then she was able to place the song just as Kurt began to sing,

"_I know there's something in the wake of your smile.  
I get a notion from the look in your eyes, yea._"

Rachel managed to hold it together, kept the tears out of her eyes until the bridge when Kurt's voice lost all its pristine perfection and wailed,

"_And there are voices  
that want to be heard.  
So much to mention  
but you can't find the words.  
The scent of magic,  
the beauty that's been  
when love was wilder than the wind._

_Listen to your heart_  
_when he's calling for you._  
_Listen to your heart_  
_there's nothing else you can do._  
_I don't know where you're going_  
_and I don't know why,_  
_but listen to your heart_  
_before you tell him goodbye_."

Tears streamed down her face and she was painfully aware of several of her fellow students staring at her, even Professor Paul gave her a curious glance before giving Kurt his full attention again. When Kurt was finished performing and he'd had his critique and even a compliment on the emotional range Rachel had managed to wipe her face and make sure her mascara wasn't running.

The rest of the class was a blur, complimenting, criticizing, trying to be honest without being cruel, that was Professor Paul's job not hers, thank God. "You're a mean bastard," She whispered to Kurt. "How can I possibly follow that?"

"You'll manage Diva, you always do," Kurt chuckled. "Now go on, make me cry."

"Oh I will," Rachel stood when her name was called and marched towards the piano with the air of someone going to the gallows. She regarded her classmates and shrugged, "You'll have figured out that Kurt was talking about me. I have dreams, nightmares, about the boy...the man I knew back home, dying, alone, far away from me, thinking I never cared about him. I usually wake myself up just before I start to scream. Apparently I didn't quite make it last week," She glared at Kurt. "My greatest fear is that... what we had wasn't real. That it was just...a passing fancy. So I found this old eighties pop rock song... And I reworked it so... if he ever heard it...he'd know I was thinking about him."

"This boy... where is he now?" Professor Paul asked quietly, "You and Kurt talk as if he's in exile."

"We don't know sir," Kurt answered when Rachel couldn't. "We haven't heard from him since we left home. We were told he went to LA. Everything we try just comes back. Wrong address, mail refused, no phone listed..."

Rachel sat at the piano and smiled sadly, "He was the bad boy...and I was the good girl...so the song is even more appropriate if you remember the movie." She began to play the opening notes. Slow and aching, the beat barely audible, the song was near unrecognizable in her hands.

"_Hey, hey, hey ,hey  
Ohhh..._"

She let her voice weep, slow and melancholy, nothing defiant as the original version had been,

"_Won't you come see about me?  
I'll be alone, dancing you know it baby..._

_Tell me your troubles and doubts_  
_Giving me everything inside and out and_  
_Love's strange so real in the dark_  
_Think of the tender things that we were working on._.."

Rachel felt her heart twist as she began the next line, heard the change, the despair in her voice,

"_Slow change may pull us apart  
When the light gets into your heart, baby,_

_Don't You Forget About Me  
Don't Don't Don't Don't  
Don't You Forget About Me..."_

Rather than a demand for attention, a shout, her words were a plea, her eyes on the doorway, hoping against hope that he'd find her somehow, hear her somehow. And the next verse was her greatest fear,

"_Will you stand above me?  
Look my way, never love me  
Rain keeps falling, rain keeps falling  
Down, down, down_

_Will you recognize me?_  
_Call my name or walk on by_  
_Rain keeps falling, rain keeps falling_  
_Down, down, down, down_

_Hey, hey, hey, hey  
Ohhhh..._"

Rachel shook her head and threw all the power into her voice away, strength seeming to die out of her voice as she began to sing the final part of the song. There was no hope here, desperation and need and a plaintive pleading that she not be completely forgotten by the one person in the world who'd seen her and hadn't tried to change her.

"_Don't you try to pretend  
It's my feeling we'll win in the end  
I won't harm you or touch your defenses  
Vanity and security_

_Don't you forget about me_  
_I'll be alone, dancing you know it baby_  
_Going to take you apart_  
_I'll put us back together at heart, baby_

_Don't You Forget About Me_  
_Don't Don't Don't Don't_  
_Don't You Forget About Me_

_As you walk on by_  
_Will you call my name?_  
_As you walk on by_  
_Will you call my name?_  
_When you walk away_

_Or will you walk away?_  
_Will you walk on by?_  
_Come on - call my name_  
_Will you call my name_?"

She let her voice echo the last line once more before she let it die away completely, looking away from the door and playing out the last notes on the piano sadly. Taking a deep breath she looked over at Kurt who was giving her a thumbs up and mouthing 'Bitch' at her with a watery grin.

"I find it interesting that you chose a song meant to be a defiant cry of the outsider and changed it so radically," Professor Paul commented. "You've certainly given it a different twist. Would you be able to do that as ably with something else? Say do the opposite?"

Rachel smiled slightly, "He played the guitar, got me into Metallica." She offered in return, "I can't play a guitar but I can take something traditional and rock it up if you like."

"I'd be interested to see if you could," The teacher challenged with a smile. "You do drama and emotion very well, I'd like to see if you can take something and make it...lighter."

"I can try," Rachel tilted her head, "If I can borrow a violin."

"You play the violin." Maria Velasquez asked incredulously. "You aren't in any of the string quartets."

"Didn't want to be," Rachel shrugged as she went to the instrument cabinets along the walls, opening then until she found a practice violin. "Puck used to laugh and say fiddle for me was like piano for him, just for fun until we gotta work at it 'cause we ain't lazy."

"Puck?" Silverstein echoed in distaste, "What kind of a name is that?"

"Shakespearian in origin?" Professor Paul asked in amusement watching Rachel tune the violin by ear.

"Short for Puckerman," Kurt told the teacher quietly as he walked down the risers towards Rachel. "I think there's a penny whistle Rachel. Want any help?" Rachel shot him a grin and whispered in his ear, "Oh I love your thinking girl." He chuckled and went to grab the whistle.

"You both play instruments?" Professor Paul was looking a little confused now, "Besides piano?"

Rachel shrugged, "There isn't a lot to do in Lima unless you're really religions, a trouble maker or..." She looked at Kurt, "You end up with a lot of hobbies. We were in Glee Club with Puck. I taught him piano. He tried to teach me guitar but my hands are too small. Kurt just picked up the penny whistle. All three of us could play drums in a pinch though Puck was the only one who could hit hard enough on a regular set." She tweaked a string a bit more and looked at Kurt, "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Kurt nodded.

"What will you be playing?" One of the quieter members of the class asked, a pretty little blonde named Yvonne.

"Ohh...just a little folk music," Rachel shot a challenging look at their teacher. "Let's see how long it takes you to recognize it."

Their professor's eyes gleamed and he nodded, a half smile playing about his lips as Rachel's fiddle began a rapid fire tune. Kurt's whistle joined in and then Rachel began to sing. This wasn't plaintive, wasn't sweet or even nice. Her voice was still rich and beautiful but she'd put a little growl under it, more reminiscent of Metallica than Sarah Brightman.

"_As I was going over  
The Cork and Kerry mountains  
I saw Captain Farrell  
And his money he was countin'_

_I first produced my pistol_  
_And then produced my rapier_  
_I said, 'Stand and deliver_  
_Oh, or the devil he may take ya'..._"

Rachel grinned at their teacher as he stood and fetched a guitar, adding his music to theirs. Kurt stopped playing the penny whistle for a moment to join his voice with hers, lowering it artificially for a few verses.

"_I took all of his money  
And it was a pretty penny  
I took all of his money, yeah  
And I brought it home to Molly_

_She swore that she loved me_  
_No, never would she leave me_  
_But the devil take that woman, yeah,_  
_For you know she tricked me easy_

_Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da_  
_Whack for my daddy-o_  
_Whack for my daddy-o_  
_There's whiskey in the jar-o..._"

Rachel nearly laughed as the guitar and fiddle duel began, the riffs on the guitar chased by the fiddle and the whistle winding through all of it. Nodding to their teacher she offered him the next verse and he tilted his head at her. Meshing voices was a challenge she couldn't resist.

"_Being drunk and weary  
I went to Molly's chamber  
Takin' Molly with me  
But I never knew the danger  
_

_For about six or maybe seven  
In walked Captain Farrell  
I jumped up, fired my pistols  
And I shot him with both barrels, yeah!_

_Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da, yeah, yeah!_  
_Whack for my daddy-o_  
_Whack for my daddy-o_  
_There's whiskey in the jar-o..._"

Kurt looked at their teacher and tilted his head curiously, grinning when he got the nod to sing,

"_Yeah, whiskey, yo, ho whiskey..._

_Oh-oh, whoa, whoa, yo!_

_Oh, oh, oh, yeah!_

_Now some men like a fishin'_  
_Some men like the fowlin'_  
_Some men like to hear_  
_To hear the cannonball a-roarin'..._"

Rachel did laugh aloud then, lifting her voice to match theirs,

"_Me? I like sleepin'  
'Specially in my Molly's chamber  
But here I am in prison  
Here I am with a ball and chain, yeah_

_Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da, hey, yeah!_  
_Whack for my daddy-o_  
_Whack for my daddy-o_  
_There's whiskey in the jar-o, yeah!_

_Whiskey in the jar-o, yeah!_

_Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da_  
_Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da, hey!_  
_Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da_  
_Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da, yeah!_"

One more riff of the guitar, a last repeat of the chorus and they were done, Rachel couldn't stop laughing and sighed happily as she wiped cheerful tears from her eyes. "Oh I haven't had that much fun in a while," She admitted with a grin.

"I do miss that about Glee," Kurt admitted. "We were competing but with Puck and Santana and Artie...music wasn't always so dead serious. This is like life or death."

"It was fun," Rachel agreed. "Even competing...I've never felt so complete as when I was singing with him."

"Not even Finn?" Kurt asked her curiously as they put the instruments away. "You two were great together."

"Musically yes, but I was always holding back," Rachel admitted quietly. "He improved but...I've been training since I was four Kurt. He didn't have the lung capacity or control to keep up with me."

"And how were you with Puck?" Their teacher asked as he replaced the borrowed guitar.

"Whew..." Kurt fanned himself, "I've got video of them singing Lady Antebellum... steam."

"Musically though, your voices were well matched?" Professor Paul looked at Rachel for an answer.

"He had a strong voice, this gorgeous rich baritone with the sexiest little growl in it," Rachel smiled as she remembered. "He serenaded me once."

"First boy to ever serenade anyone in Glee, ever, and it was the school badass who did it," Kurt commented.

"Well I think you've proved that you can go both directions musically," The teacher smiled slightly. "If you ever do get in touch with your Puck, I'd like very much to meet him."

"I'd like that too," Rachel smiled.

* * *

Rachel stared at the half empty, or half full, really who was she to say, wine glass and decided that philosophical debate could wait on the next glass, tossing the wine back without a wince. Five years. Five years since she'd left Lima. A year after she'd graduated Julliard and she still hadn't heard from Puck. She'd done everything but take out an ad in the Times and she was seriously contemplating doing just that.

"Five years, one month, four days," Rachel wondered if talking to herself or knowing to the day how long it had been since she'd seen Puck was more pathetic. Probably the days thing, though anyone who knew her would agree that it could just be a symptom of her hyper organization.

She'd ended up with another boyfriend since that day in class, someone with a shared interest in folk music, science fiction and theatre. It had started in two months into the last semester and ended... Rachel checked her clock, twelve hours and fourteen minutes ago. "Beautiful, supportive, loving and talented...and emotionally unavailable and distrusting with privacy and space issues," She lifted her glass in a salute.

"Is that supposed to be you or Mark?" Kurt asked tiredly as he came out of his room. "When did you get home?"

"Oh about three glasses ago," Rachel winced when she saw how tired he was, "I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to wake you up with my soliloquy."

"I'm pretty sure I've done the same to you," Kurt poured himself a glass and sat down at the breakfast bar to look at her. "So you and Mark are done?"

"We have been for a while, just too busy to really deal with it," She shrugged and sipped her wine. "We hadn't had sex in months... I'm pretty sure he was seeing someone else. To be fair so was I, but mine was run on batteries whereas I'm pretty sure his runs on sushi and sake."

"He did not succumb to the cliché of boiking his assistant," Kurt groaned. "I was almost hoping he was using you as a beard when I saw batteries on the list again."

"He succumbed," Rachel confirmed, "Because of my emotional unavailability, among other things." She sighed, "I don't even blame him." She looked around the apartment, "I didn't want him here. Didn't want him to see my pictures, ask about my past, I didn't want to open up to him."

"Maybe you should try not dating for a while," Kurt suggested gently. "Dior knows I'm having a dry spell myself. Give it a rest and relax. Enjoy being with Rachel. Concentrate on work. Maybe with time you can..." He hesitated and Rachel shook her head.

"I can what? Forget? I've tried, every time I give a new guy a chance, I tell myself, let this one in. Let this one spend the night," She shook her head. "I say 'c'mon, this guy's nice. He's gentle'. Or he's passionate, he's fiery..." Dark eyes fixed on her friend. "And it never works."

"Why?" Kurt asked softly. "Why doesn't it work? Why don't you ever trust them? With anything let alone a night with you."

"Because one of them has one quality, another has a different quality but all of them," Rachel heard her voice break and almost cursed. "All of them want me to be different somehow. None of then just looks at me and sees Rachel and thinks 'fuck, she doesn't need to change'. None of them think I'm fine the way I am." She shook her head again, "And none of them...none of them are everything he is to me None of them touch me the way he did. Mark was inside me, he was..." She sighed, "He was inside me and I thought of Noah... and I got..." She stood and put her empty glass by the sink, rinsing out the wine bottle and putting it in the recycle bin. "I remembered how it felt to have Noah hold me, his hand on my neck, cupping my cheek, and his lips, so gentle on mine... he was always so gentle with me Kurt. He could be rough, but he never left bruises on me even when he was close to losing control. I get more excited at the memory of Noah's gentlest kiss than I did my boyfriend fucking me." She snorted, "I think I have issues."

"I haven't heard you screaming in the middle of the night for almost a year," Kurt said quietly. "I was sort of hoping you weren't having the dreams anymore. I was hoping that you'd maybe gotten over him."

"I've learned to wake myself up," Rachel shrugged and put the glass in the dishwasher. "I learned to hide how I feel. I'm a better actress hiding my misery from you than I was in that lame class freshman year."

"Why are you hiding it from me for the love of Gaga?" Kurt cried, "I'm your friend Rachel."

"Because I wanted to pretend that I'd be all right," Rachel burst out and sank down against the cabinets on to the tile floor. She could feel hot tears on her cheeks again and hated them, hated the weakness. "I wanted to pretend that maybe someday I won't feel like there's a hole in my chest. That maybe a month could go by where I don't call his mother or my dads and ask if they've heard from him. I hoped I could just ignore how hopeless and miserable I feel when my letters are returned. And I wanted to pretend that I'm not in love with him. That I can breathe without him. I want to be a whole person Kurt and without him... Damn it, without him I'm just not."

"Oh Diva," Kurt's voice was aching with sympathy as he sat down and wrapped his arms around her. "Puckerman was always a stubborn son of a bitch, he's got to be missing you just as much."

"Then why hasn't he found me yet?" Rachel wept. "Where is he Kurt? He knew where I was for four years... He knew I was going to Julliard. He had my dads' address, my phone number... Why didn't he come see me?"

"I don't know," Kurt frowned and wondered if there was a way to track the errant boy down. "Maybe we could save up, hire an investigator, something."

"The worst part of the dreams... its always him dying," Rachel confessed softly. "But sometimes, when he's lying there, he's alone and he's bleeding... he doesn't call out for me. Sometimes he calls for Quinn...that's the worst feeling Kurt. That maybe he's happier without me. Maybe he's with her, or some other perky blonde with a little nose and big breasts. Someone who won't make his life a living hell with rampant diva-tude."

"That's no way to talk," Kurt snapped at her. "Puck may have waited until you and Finn broke up but it was obvious that you were it for him. He was always your friend first, ever since you dated, everyone took a back seat to you except Beth. But you were his girl Rachel. You always were."

"I know," Rachel sighed and leaned against him, "I just... I wish he was my guy. You know?"

"I know." Kurt let her just rest her head against his shoulder and sit. What was there to really say?

* * *

Rachel woke up biting back a scream, sitting bolt upright in bed, panic induced adrenaline racing through her body. The bed was empty, she was alone, and she shuddered and took a deep gasping breath to try and calm herself down when his voice nearly startled her into screaming. "Rae, baby you all right," Puck asked from the doorway.

"Noah," Rachel whispered and tried to keep from crying. "God Noah."

"Baby, aw baby what's wrong?" He didn't waste any time, setting the water he held aside, moving right over to the bed and pulling off his shorts to climb in beside her and pull her into his arms.

Rachel let herself burrow into his warmth, no one was as warm as Noah was, "I had a bad dream." She confessed softly. She'd never told him about the dreams, hadn't wanted him to feel like he needed to stay with her at night, especially when he worked so late.

"What about Rae," He was pressing little kisses to her hair and shoulder, pulling the sheets and blanket up to cover her and keep her warm. "Told you, the play's gonna be awesome."

"Not about the play," Rachel shook her head, "Its always the same dream, well mostly the same, but its always about you..." She felt him still against her in surprise and then relax.

"Well what's it about then," Puck's hands and voice were more reassuring than a dozen analysts could be.

"You're all alone... and you're hurt... you're bleeding..." Rachel whispered. "And sometimes you're calling for me but I can't get to you. But the worst ones are when you're calling for Quinn not me."

"Aw hell, that ain't ever gonna happen," Puck swore and kissed her hard on the mouth. "First, I'm not gonna get shot or anything like that. I'm not smart enough to be a cop and I'm not dumb enough to go back to the criminal life. And the day I'd want that icy blonde bitch is the day they sell ice skates in hell."

"Hmm..." Rachel happily kissed him back, ready to ignore the dream in favor of Puck's gorgeous body and passionate kisses.

"You have this dream a lot I guess," Puck was still thinking and they wouldn't be having sex until he'd gotten his answers. Rachel knew that tone a little too well.

"Yes," She shrugged casually and slipped a hand down to squeeze his cock enjoying his groan as he tried to think in the face of all his blood draining to his groin.

"Then I'm stayin' here nights," Puck told her. "Not havin' you wake up alone an' afraid 'cause I crashed at my apartment instead a here."

"If I say yes and make sure you have a key can we please have sex now?" Rachel wiggled against him, pressing her breasts to his chest.

"Fuck yes," Puck groaned and began to accede to her demands. "You're my girl Rae. Idea of me wantin' anyone else...that's just crazy talk," He told her between kisses. "From now on, you get out of work, come down to the club an' nap on the couch 'til I'm offa work."

"Hmm..." Rachel giggled, "Noah, I'm feeling much better now. Less talking about my dream, more doing something about this...situation you've created."

His wicked laugh was enough to let her know that Noah Puckerman never left a task unfinished and always did the job right. Kurt pounding on the wall and begging them to just sleep like normal people a half hour later just made the bigger man laugh

_Fin_

* * *

_Author's Note: So when I wrote Magic Puck there was a lot that I skimmed over. When I wrote All She Is it was purely from Puck's point of view and we learned more about what he was like when he was without Rachel. I'd had this in mind for a while and being stuck on my other stories started to write this...sometimes just writing something gets the brain going and its easier to go back to the other works in progress. So this is similar to All She Is, in that its purely from Rachel's perspective and shows us what she was going through when she was without Puck._

_Musically...if you want to know what inspired this. Simple Minds from the Breakfast Club started it, Listen To Your Heart by DHT and Whiskey in the Jar as sung by Metallica._


End file.
